


Assistance Acquired

by Lycaste



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Mech Suits, Other, awesome pranks on your comrades, complicated Decepticon friendships, dangerous imitations, mentions of dirty talk, power struggles over 'get help'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 19:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycaste/pseuds/Lycaste
Summary: Tired of being the one thrown during he and Megatron's ritualistic battle game, Starscream endeavors to become the 'Get Help'-er, rather than the 'Get Help'-ee.Skywarp's POV.





	Assistance Acquired

**Author's Note:**

> Transformers fandom, you were naughty this year. You thought I wouldn’t notice? Well I did. You were naughty, and this fic ~~is your punishment~~ is my holiday gift to you. 
> 
> Written because I was delighted by [this tumblr post](http://catesly.tumblr.com/post/168114200396/nzagul-if-your-otp-wouldnt-do-the-get-help) which asked: "if your otp wouldn’t do the “get help” scene from thor: ragnarok then is it REALLY your otp?"
> 
> If you haven't seen Thor:Ragnarok, you can watch a one minute clip of the ['Get Help' scene here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpZakOJlRoY). It doesn't spoil anything, but of course it's best within the context of the movie. Basically character a pretends to be injured and dying while character b carries them and tries to throw enemies off guard by screaming for help.

 

 

Being stuck in an elevator with a bunch of other Decepticons was the worst.

It was bad enough when they were all in meetings together, but being forced into enclosed spaces led to a multitude of weird dynamics. Mechs either wanted to stand right next to Megatron or as far away from him as possible, which meant there were pockets of awkward empty space next to pockets of bots crammed too close together. Plus everyone turned their idiosyncrasies up to eleven. Vortex was rotating his blades loudly and checking his weapons for the thousandth time in a row. Overlord was whistling and venting an unnecessary amount of exhaust. And Tarn, of course, was sucking up to Megatron harder than usual.

“As you can see, my Lord, I’ve taken the liberty of recreating the strategic weak points of this base.” Tarn pointed to a small hologram he had generated. “I believe our proud and mighty force would be best served to concentrate our attack here.”

Skywarp watched Tarn’s face carefully. He could barely see the tank’s lips move from beneath the mask, but he hung on every word. Moving his own lips silently, he mimicked Tarn’s speech in his head. _Proud and mighty force. Best served, my Lord. May I polish you with my tongue, my Lord? Proud and mighty force._ Skywarp shook his head and frowned. _How does he get his voice that deep? It must be a special mod._

An elbow jabbed him in the cockpit. “Stop,” murmured Thundercracker.

“Stop what?” asked Skywarp innocently. “What am I doing?”

“I have no idea but stop doing it,” said Thundercracker.

Starscream spun his turbines and glared at them, but he passed on reprimanding Skywarp and Thundercracker to concentrate on Tarn. “Thanks for the overcomplicated plan, _Commandant._ But we’re here to get our warp drive back, not waste time and resources taking over this entire base.”

_Riiiight_ , thought Skywarp. Retrieving a stolen warp drive from a group of alien pirates. _That’s_ why they were here. Maybe that’s what the morning meeting had been about. He’d been too busy trying to memorize Tarn’s speech patterns to pay attention.

“So then what _is_ the plan, sir?” said Thundercracker.

A wicked grin spread across Megatron’s face. “We’re going to make our way as a group to the hanger where they store their ships and weapons. As we exit this elevator, we’re going to do ‘Get Help’.”

“Yes!” cried Skywarp. He clapped his hands together. Screamer and Big Megs doing ‘Get Help’ was always hilarious.

“No,” said Starscream. The ice dripping from the word was practically visible.

“Come on,” said Megatron. “You love it.”

“I hate it,” snapped Starscream.

Megatron’s smile grew wider. Half the mechs next to him slowly inched their way to the other side of the elevator. “It’s great, Starscream. It works every time.”

Starscream crossed his arms over his cockpit and huffed. “It’s humiliating.”

“Do you have a better plan?” inquired Megatron.

“Actually I do,” said Starscream. “We form an offensive pincer ambush where you, Tarn, and Overlord start firing when the elevator doors open while the rest of us cling to the sides. Then if the enemy gets closer we’ll jump forward and surprise them. By the time they realize they’re outgunned, they’ll be fighting all of us at close range.”

“Huh.” Skywarp exchanged a glance with Thundercracker. That _was_ kind of a good plan.

Megatron’s smile dissolved. “No. We’re going with what’s proven successful in the past.”

“We are _not_ doing ‘Get Help’,” said Starscream.

The elevator came to a sudden stop. There was a chime, and the doors began to open. Everyone raised their weapons. Skywarp onlined his shoulder cannons and took position next to Starscream. Yet before anyone could make the first move, Megatron seized Starscream and held him close.

“Agh! Megatron! What?”

Megatron held him tightly, an expression of faux-anguish on his face. He stumbled towards a group of armed, waiting aliens. “Get help! Please, my Air Commander is dying. Get help. Help him!” With the force of a mighty gladiator, he tossed Starscream into the aliens.

The organics didn’t stand a chance against so many tons of hurtling metal. Starscream was thrown too fast and hard to have time to transform, so he slammed into the aliens like an ungainly missile. Most of them died on impact.

Skywarp leaned against Thundercracker and giggled. The rest of the Decepticons, save Thundercracker, were also laughing. Megatron stood in front of them with a triumphant smirk.

“Classic, my Lord,” said Tarn.

Skywarp couldn’t help himself. Still trying to imitate Tarn’s unique resonance, he whispered, “Classic, my Lord.”

“Have you lost your damn mind?” said Thundercracker. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Working on my Tarn impression,” murmured Skywarp.

Thundercracker moved his lips, but no sound came from his vocalizer. His hands clenched and unclenched while his magnetic field made an uneven shapes. A fairly melodramatic reaction for him. 

“Relax,” said Skywarp.

Before them, Starscream got to his feet and brushed at his plating. “Still hate it. It’s humiliating.” 

“Not for us it’s not,” said Megatron. He motioned to the other soldiers. “The rest of you, go secure the warp drive.”

Starscream stomped right into Megatron’s space. Skywarp had to hand it to him, he was pretty damn brave when it came to dealing with the old slagger. “That is _it!_ I’m not doing this again, Megatron.” In a flash, the pattern of his EM field went from erratic seething to smoother excitement. He jabbed fearlessly at Megatron’s shoulder. “You know what? Next time _I’m_ going to do ‘Get Help’ to _you_.”

Megatron’s response was a dismissive scoff. “I think not, Starscream. I doubt you have the strength to carry me to do it.”

“I have the strength!” shrieked Starscream. “Next time, you’re the one who needs help.”

“No,” said Megatron dangerously.

Skywarp knew that tone. That was the tone that indicated Megatron was done playing. This was when a normal soldier would shut up and try to blend into the wall. Unfortunately, Screamer never seemed to get that. Or he didn’t care.

Or maybe he _did_ get it. Starscream immediately stopped yelling and took on a more deferential posture. He revved his engine and ran his hand up Megatron’s arm. “Oh yeah? Well what if I…” Rising on the tips of his feet he began whispering sweetly into Megatron’s audials.

If he meant for his words to be a secret, he did a slag-poor job of it because everything was audible. And WHOA! Skywarp’s optics glowed. He swallowed thickly. Starscream had always been an accomplished dirty talker, but this was peak filth. It was one of the most creatively raunchy scenarios that Skywarp had ever heard, and he routinely went out drinking with Deadlock.

Next to him, Thundercracker sounded like he was having a processor crash. He made a choked little static sound and stared at the floor shyly.

To his credit, Megatron remained composed. Only his optics glowing a deeper red gave him away. He somehow managed to appear dignified as he nodded to Starscream and simply said, “Very well.”

Always one to bask in the glory of ill-gotten power, Starscream moved closer, until he was practically hanging off Megatron’s side, and continued not-so-whispering some of the dirtiest things to come out of a mech’s mouth in the history of forever. Propositions that came across as both wantonly licentious and dreamily erotic. He finished with a suggestive brush of his wing against Megatron’s chest.

Skywarp couldn’t cool his systems fast enough. Holy slag. The two of them looked on the verge of fragging right there in front of him and TC and an alien security system and wouldn’t _that_ be insanely hot?

A hand clamped around his wrist, and Thundercracker was dragging him away. “Come on. Let’s, um, get back to the battle.”

Disappointed, Skywarp let himself be pulled. It was probably best to vacate the area. Whether fighting or fragging, it didn’t often pay to be a spectator to an intense Megatron and Starscream interaction. “Fine. Fine. I wanted to push Rumble down those stairs over there anyway.”

  

~~**~~

 

Riding on a shuttle with a bunch of other Decepticons was so damn boring.

Everyone was eager for a fight, yet everyone also knew that they had to keep their cool and not get too hyper or they’d slag off Megatron. This led to an entire team of Decepticons with way too much nervous energy and no outlet. In short: a group completely lacking a sense of humor.

“I’m telling you, he put energum on my seat. He did it on purpose!” Astrotrain shook an angry fist at Skywarp, his fingers still sticky with the remnants of energon gum. After twenty minutes of trying to remove it from his aft plating, he’d only had minimal success. Now it was stuck to his fingers, his wings, the seat, and part of his face.

It was beautiful, and Skywarp was on the brink of failing to wrestle down his laughter. “You’re blaming this on _me_? I’ve been minding my own business. Frag off.”

“I know it was you,” snarled Astrotrain. The ship lurched, and he put a hand against the wall to steady himself. It promptly stuck there. “I’m gonna kill you, Skywarp.”

A tank-shaped shadow suddenly fell over both of them. Tarn clucked his vocalizer once, projecting a disapproval that was both guilt inducing and legitimately terrifying, and then he produced a cleaning rag out of his subspace and handed it to Astrotrain. “This has solvent on it. Clean up and behave for the rest of the flight. You’re embarrassing yourself in front of Megatron.”

Astrotrain took the cloth and mumbled, but he set about cleaning himself. Mechs tended to do what the Commandant told them.

“I’d hate to find out that you were involved in this,” said Tarn. With the artistry of an orchestra conductor, he wagged an admonishing finger in Skywarp’s face. His voice dipped the tiniest fraction. Enough to squeeze Skywarp’s spark and make him feel like his entire frame was too tight.

“Nope,” wheezed Skywarp. “Just sitting here being loyal.”

Tarn grunted and sat back down. Next to Megatron, of course.

Keeping his hands low to his lap, Skywarp began to practice Tarn’s finger motions. For such a clunky grounder, Tarn was incredibly graceful. _How does he make his hands so fluid? And why? It’s like he thinks he’s in a band._

“What. Are. You. Doing?” growled Thundercracker out of the side of his mouth.

“To mimic him, I must become him,” whispered Skywarp.

Overlord blessedly derailed any forthcoming lectures from Thundercracker. He’d been fairly quiet up until now, but the long ride was trying his patience as well. “Do we really need all of us to fight this guy?”

“Yeah,” said Skywarp. “Why are we here anyway?” He cringed as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Oops. Had that been explained in the meeting he’d recharged through that morning? Hopefully not.

“We’re here to negotiate with a freelance peacekeeping agent that tried to kill Shockwave last month,” said Starscream. “Apparently he’s been hired by some Autobot cowards to assassinate high-ranking Decepticons.”

Thundercracker groaned. “Freelance peacekeeping agent? You don’t mean Death’s Head, do you?”

“Yeah,” said Starscream. “Him.”

Skywarp added to the communal grumble. Dealing with Death’s Head was always such a pain in the aft. “Hasn’t he worked for us in the past?”

Megatron took a break from sitting silently and looking like he was about to crack a mech’s head open to say, “He works for the highest bidder. We’re here to teach him that taking jobs against Decepticons never pays.”

“So what’s the plan?” asked Thundercracker.

“The plan is that we burst into his base and take him out together.” Starscream grinned evilly at Megatron. “After we do ‘Get Help’, that is.”

Megatron clenched his jaw, but then he grumbled an assent.

The Decepticons snickered. Tarn rubbed his fingers together in a weirdly hypnotic but also totally unnecessary motion. “Excellent. ‘Get Help’ does wonders for morale.”

“It sure does,” said Starscream cheerfully.

The shuttle landed, and everyone gathered around the main entrance of Death’s Head’s hideout. It was about what Skywarp expected. A large set of blast doors fixed into the side of a mountainous pile of junk. The whole place was nondescript enough to not attract much attention, yet ominous enough to tell the visitor that someone dangerous lived there.

“Are we ready?” asked Starscream.

“The question is, Starscream,” said Megatron as he threw an arm over Starscream’s shoulder and leaned on him, “are _you_ ready?”

Skywarp couldn’t silence his whirring turbines. Megs was really gonna go for it. Not that Skywarp could blame him, what with the absolutely lurid reward that Starscream had promised. But this was too good. The best part was how aghast and scandalized the rest of them were. Especially Tarn, whose mouth was open so far that Skywarp could see it below the mask.

Megatron fired the fusion cannon and vaporized the doors. He then went limp, putting more of his weight on Starscream.

The smoke cleared to reveal a very surprised Death’s Head wearing his stupid cape and even stupider expression. “What is this, eh?”

“Get help!” screeched Starscream. He limped forward, struggling with the unwieldy dead weight of Megatron pulling on his side. “Please, our leader is…mpfh, damn you’re heavy…he’s dying.”

“Uh oh,” whispered Skywarp. This didn’t look good. Starscream’s knee joints were buckling. His engine was audibly working overtime, and there was a small stream of smoke coming from his shoulder joint.

“Help…him…” Starscream crouched and tried to lift Megatron over his head. He staggered a few times, arms shaking, and then collapsed to the floor with Megatron on top of him.

Skywarp gasped. Thundercracker shook his head sadly. The room fell into a stiff, shocked silence. None of the Decepticons dared to say anything, each staring at Starscream pinned under Megatron.

Finally Death’s Head chortled, raised his plasma rifle, and said, “You require assistance, yes?”

Snapping his fingers, Megatron pointed at Overlord and Tarn. “You two. Get him.”

The two massive mechs wasted no time in attacking Death’s Head. Soon the room was filled with smoke and blaster fire, while everyone else hung back and surreptitiously watched Starscream try to struggle out from underneath Megatron.

“Did you drink an entire river of energon before we left?” whined Starscream. “You weigh more than a planet.”

Megatron didn’t get up. Despite the failed ‘Get Help’ attempt, he seemed to be in a rare state of amused calm. He simply sat atop Starscream, a placid expression on his face. “I’m disappointed, Starscream. You’ve lifted me in the past but couldn’t do it today. But ah, a lack of functioning is an unfortunate side effect of getting older, isn’t it?”

“What!? Well you would know, being almost as old as Cybertron itself.” Starscream kicked at Megatron’s side with his thruster heel. “It was an awkward angle! I was basically using one arm. Next time I’ll throw you so far your gears will rattle out of that rusty old bucket you call a head.”

“There won’t be a next time,” said Megatron. He stood up, pressing Starscream’s helm into the ground as he did it, and then pulled him up sharply by the wing. “You had your chance, but your strength was lacking and your technique was poor.”

One thing that Skywarp admired about Starscream was his ability to bounce back from defeat. Their Air Commander shoved Megatron’s hand away, wiped off his cockpit, and then stood as tall and prideful as the day he came online. With a sultry smirk, he leaned on Megatron’s arm and said, “Oh yeah? Well what if I…”

Skywarp had to hand it to him, in Starscream’s world of high-decibel speech, the volume at which he spoke could possibly be considered whispering. Yet he was still loud enough for everyone to hear him over the blaster fire as he proceeded to detail exactly what he would do to Megatron if he had another opportunity to be the ‘Get Help’-er, rather than the ‘Get Help’-ee.

It was the most lasciviously erotic monologue that Skywarp had heard in, well, at least a week. Better than that, it was a full narrative complete with a dirty beginning, a sexy middle full of conflict, and a lewd ending that used words to describe an overload that were greater than four syllables. Skywarp wasn’t exactly sure what all those words meant, but they sounded good.

Evidently Megatron thought they sounded good as well. His optics cycled impossibly wide, core temperature rising high enough for everyone to sense. When Starscream finally finished, Megatron was silent for a few seconds before he finally wheezed, “We’ll…discuss this later.”

A blaster bolt zipping close to Megatron’s helm interrupted their moment. He whipped around to glare at Overlord and Tarn, in time to see Overlord throw a punch that missed Death’s Head by a mile and caught Tarn on the chin. Apparently their fight against Death’s Head had devolved into a three-way fracas against each other.

“Megatron!” Tarn slammed his double fusion cannon into Overlord’s face. “He’s firing at me.”

“It was an accident,” said Overlord. “My hand slipped.”

“Idiots,” muttered Megatron. He left the group to join the fight, shoving roughly at Overlord before jumping at Death’s Head.

Starscream threw an arm across Thundercracker’s cockpit to block him. “Hang back. They’ve got this.”

“That was pretty creative,” said Skywarp. “I don’t know what concupiscent means but I liked how you described your interface array.”

“Yeah that was…wow.” Astrotrain looked like he’d just flown across the galaxy. His wings drooped. His knee joints were shaking. His core temperature was so high that it had caused condensation to bead across his helm and drip down his face. He absently used the cloth that Tarn had given him to wipe himself down. It was still sticky with energum, which he smeared across his face and neck cables. He didn’t even seem to notice.

“I don’t know though,” said Thundercracker. He had a light flush underneath the thin plating of his face from a rush of energon, and his wings were doing the lazy adorable wiggles they always did when he was aroused. “I don’t think you’re strong enough to throw him.”

Starscream rubbed his hands together. “That’s why _next time_ I’ll have a plan to deal with our dear leader’s mass.”

Skywarp scoffed. That was sure to be entertaining. It was something to look forward to, as the fun part of their current mission was clearly over. But if he wasn’t gonna get into a fight, maybe he could still get some loot out of this. “Hey Starscream, you think it’s okay if we go through Death’s Head’s stuff?”

 

~~**~~

  

Going on an undercover mission with a bunch of other Decepticons was positively ridiculous. 

The problem was, for a group that was supposedly so good at lying, very few of them had any imagination. Most of the bots in attendance righteously sucked at pretending to be someone else. Misfire was fiddling nonstop with the catering symbol covering his Decepticon badge. Thrust and Dirge kept forgetting their cover stories and peering behind them with the most furtive, guilty expressions. Even Thundercracker, who was usually excellent to have on a mission, was so obviously uncomfortable that Skywarp would’ve pegged him for a spy in two seconds.

He had to hand it to Tarn though. The mech could act. With his crisp paint job and sophisticated diction, Skywarp could easily believe that Tarn was the high class professional he was pretending to be.

“We’re the caterers,” said Tarn to the security guard at the entrance. He gestured to the tables laden with snacks and presented his falsified credentials. “I believe you’ll find that everything is in order.”

Skywarp made a more discreet version of Tarn’s sweeping hand motion, silently mouthing the words while trying to mentally pinpoint the Commandant’s exact vocal frequencies. _Everything is in order. Would you like me to recite Cybertronian opera backwards? We’re the caterers._

A heavy hand clapped onto his shoulder. “What are you doing?” asked Megatron.

“Nothing,” said Skywarp. “Just trying to get into character. You know, look refined.”

“Shut up and act natural,” growled Megatron.

“Sir, yes sir.” Skywarp hiked up his wings and schooled his features to neutral. Oops. Perhaps now wasn’t a good time for Tarn practice.

Security waved them into the building, and they entered the lift system that would make short work of the thousands of floors between them and their destination. After exiting the elevator, they followed the labyrinthine corridors until they stopped in front of the main meeting room for the First Annual Inorganic Strategy Conference. Inside mechs from all over the galaxy had gathered together to negotiate strategies for dealing with inorganic issues. If Skywarp had paid attention to the morning’s meeting correctly (and he really _had_ tried), Megatron had a grievance with the Terradores that he wanted to settle personally. Or so he had claimed. Secretly, Skywarp suspected that Megatron and Starscream were bitter that the Decepticons hadn’t been invited.

Whatever the reason, it was sure to be a killer fight.

“Hey,” said Skywarp. He scanned his compatriots again. Yeah, it was definitely too quiet. “Where’s Starscream?”

Thundercracker frowned. “He was right behind us on the shuttle. He said he just needed to equip himself with something and he’d be right along.”

Megatron’s mouth turned down like he’d mainlined a cube of sour energon. “The fool. We’re not waiting for him if-“

He was cut off by the sound of loud pneumatic clomping. Hurrying down the hallway was Starscream, or a very enhanced version of Starscream. He was wearing a form-fitting, powered armor. It surrounded his back and sides like a shell, making him much taller and wider. It had little gears and rotors that articulated with every step, massive fists larger than his head, and little winglets on the side. Best of all, it was painted in the most brilliant blue and garish red in the history of visual representation.

“Like my disguise?” said Starscream. “It’s a mech suit.”

Skywarp _did_ like it. “Awesome! But wait, aren’t you technically always wearing a mech suit?”

“Brilliant,” deadpanned Megatron. “The Starscream version of discretion.”

“ _That’s_ your definition of undercover?” said Thundercracker. “How did you get past security with that on?” 

Starscream shrugged. The action caused his massive shoulders to bonk against the ceiling. “I told them it was for carrying dishes and stuff.”

Megatron brought his hand to his forehead and covered his face with it. “Unbelievable.”

Skywarp bit his tongue and tried not to stare. He loved it when Megatron face palmed. It was so funny. Okay, it was a little risky to put their leader into that state. Maybe more than a little. But it was still funny.

“Our mission,” said Megatron after he’d recovered from his disgust, “is to infiltrate this meeting and remove the Terradorian leader, and anyone else who gets in our way. Are we ready?”

“Ahem.” Starscream reset his vocalizer held out an arm to Megatron. “I believe we had a plan for this?”

Every Decepticon watched in horrified delight as Megatron leaned into Starscream’s outstretched arm. With the mech suit on, Starscream was no longer shorter. He pulled Megatron against him fiercely, a manic charge to his field.

Tarn’s treads were swaying. With a resigned sigh, he tapped at the intercom for the meeting room. When it buzzed to life he said, “Catering is here and eager to serve. I believe the gentlemechs ordered refreshments?”

The doors parted, and Skywarp followed the rest of them into an extravagant conference room.

His orbital ridges shot up. Damn. The place was classy, and Skywarp found himself torn between thinking _nice digs_ and _what a pointlessly fancy waste._ A huge circular table made from Stentarian crystal dominated the center of the room. Over fifty individuals, some representing species that Skywarp couldn’t recognize, sat in elaborate chairs fashioned from ice blue, elastic liquidmetal. Intricate carvings hung on the polished walls, shimmering and amorphous as though they contained the most expensive self-healing alloys.

Skywarp snickered internally. _They’d better be self-healing, with the damage we’re gonna do to this place._

The lighting was lovely too. The soft glow from the elegant chandeliers complimented the natural light coming from a huge bay window. They were so high up that the view offered a breathtaking panorama of the rock and crystal planet below.

Hundreds of optics shuttered and blinked at the snack trays, barely noticing the presence of the caterers themselves.

They weren’t to be ignored for long. Starscream stomped forward with Megatron hanging off him. “Get help! Our boss fainted on the way here and needs assistance! I think he’s dying. Help him!” With that, he lifted Megatron and tossed him towards the attendees, the suit enhancing his strength so much that the action seemed effortless.

Maybe a little too effortless. Megatron sailed over the heads of the participants and crashed into the large window. Between his mass and the force of the throw, it shattered instantly. He had just enough time to throw a dismayed glare at Starscream before he plummeted out of sight, beginning the multi-thousand-floor descent to the planet’s surface.

Starscream gasped. “Oh slag.”

Skywarp couldn’t help it. He started laughing. It was so perfect and amazing. The look on Megatron’s face. Starscream’s horrified surprise. The silent meeting attendees who were at a loss as to what to do. Cackling, he leaned against the nearest bot for balance and laughed harder, until a very irritated EM field informed him that he was leaning on Tarn. It took a heroic amount of discipline, but he managed to compose himself. “You know what? Not funny. That wasn’t funny. Way to calibrate your mech suit, Screamer.”

Fortunately for Skywarp, Tarn took out his frustrations on the nearest non-Decepticon. He reduced the Terrodorian leader to a pile of useless parts by ripping him straight in half. “Decepticons, let us cleanse this ostentatious conference!”

It was a pretty funny statement, considering that Tarn was the most ostentatious mech in the entire Decepticon army. But Skywarp knew when to pick his battles, and he eagerly warped on top of the table and opened fire. Most of the attendees were cowardly diplomats who kept slamming into each other as they tried to run away. At least half of them died when Tarn burst into song. The battle was over in an hour, leaving the room in complete shambles and everyone who wasn’t a Cybertronian in pieces.

Taking in the carnage next to Thundercracker and Starscream, an idea occurred to Skywarp. “Hey, if Tarn’s voice affects these guys, why didn’t we send him in alone?”

“Or why didn’t we try launching a bomb through that enormous, unguarded window?” said Thundercracker.

Starscream eyed the shattered window nervously. “Shhhhh. We considered that but I talked Megatron out of it. I wanted to do ‘Get Help’ in my new armor.”

Thundercracker shook his head. “You’re gonna need help when Megatron gets back up here.”

“Scrap, I forgot about him,” said Skywarp. “Should I warp down there and go get him? You think he’s hit the ground yet?

As if on cue, a large silver hand slapped over the edge of the broken window. It was followed by another hand, and then Megatron pulled himself over the edge and vaulted into the room.

“Mighty Megatron!” said Starscream, in a tone far more deferential than usual. “We have defeated our enemies as you commanded. And, um, sorry about throwing you. But I see our powerful and always so graciously forgiving lord had the strength to make it back up with no problem.”

Megatron stalked towards him. The other Decepticons heaved themselves out of his path. Even Tarn scrambled away from him. He grabbed Starscream by the neck and said, “Do you know how high this building is? I was falling for thirty minutes before I could grab an edge and start climbing.”

“Why didn’t you just break a window, get back inside, and then take the elevator back up?” said Starscream. The words came out stilted and floundering, like he wanted to stop himself mid-sentence but couldn’t. “Sorry! The suit needs a few tweaks. I’ll fix it for next time. Promise.”

“There will be no next time, Starscream,” growled Megatron.

Starscream patted Megatron’s cheek with his massive mech suit hand, his voice dropping seductively. “Well what if I-“

“No!” barked Megatron. With one easy motion, he tore Starscream out of the armor and threw him to the ground. He then proceeded to rip and tear the mech suit apart. “No talking. No conniving. No propositioning. No more ‘Get Help’.” He ground the helmet of the suit under his heel. “Decepticons, we’re leaving.”

Everyone obediently filed out, leaving Thundercracker and Skywarp to pick up Starscream and brush him off. 

“Sorry, Starscream,” said Skywarp. He really wasn’t sorry at all. But if they didn’t show a little sympathy now, Starscream would be impossible to deal with later. “You tried.”

“It’s not over,” said Starscream darkly. “Not by a long shot.”

Thundercracker groaned. “Starscream no.”

Skywarp cheered. “Starscream yes!”

Because why not? The whole thing was still funny, and Megatron wasn’t nearly enraged enough for it to be wise to stop yet. And then, because good snacks should never go to waste, Skywarp pointed to the dessert trays that hadn’t been destroyed and said, “Can we take those with us?”

  

~~**~~

 

Battling the Autobots with a bunch of other Decepticons was…actually, it was pretty great. 

After all these years, there was still a rush of power from fighting under Megatron’s orders, so much so that Skywarp wondered if that invigorating feeling of _we’re pushing back_ would ever go away. He hoped not. The battles were exciting, the sense of revenge was delicious, and the camaraderie was so infectious that even super annoying bots like Gigatron became a friend. Or a scrapload more tolerable anyway.

Today, however, Megatron was angrier than usual due to his favorite enemies being absent. Optimus Prime wasn’t there. Thunderclash wasn’t there. That tough fragger Ultra Magnus wasn’t there. (Probably because he’d been gravely damaged in the last battle, Skywarp reminded himself. He had to be dead. No way he could survive _another_ life-ending injury. It was crazy how much damage that mech could take and keep coming back).

Skywarp scanned their ranks. Something else was off too. Today’s lineup felt a lot less posh. “Hey,” he said suddenly, “where’s Tarn?”

Sitting on a raised platform in a massive throne, Megatron surveyed the Autobots assembled across the battlefield. “I sent him and Soundwave to investigate another matter.” Narrowing his optics at Skywarp, he added, “As I explained in this morning’s meeting.”

_Awesome._ That was ideal. It was almost impossible to have fun when Soundwave was around. “Right!” said Skywarp quickly. “Sorry, corrupted memory file. I’m good now.”

Megatron grunted, more concerned with the upcoming fight than catching Skywarp in a lie. He motioned to Starscream. “Let us not waste time with negotiations.”

Starscream strutted to the center of the platform. Megaphone in hand, because he seemed to believe his voice needed help being amplified, he shrieked, “Autobots!”

Every Decepticon on the platform winced, including Megatron. Skywarp dialed down his audio input.

“You’re outgunned,” continued Starscream. “Surrender now and save us all the trouble of pointless injuries. Or death, in your case."

“We’ll never surrender,” cried the Autobot leader.

Bedecked in a comical number of weapons, Deadlock sidled up to Thundercracker and Skywarp and whispered, “Isn’t that Autobot your nemesis?”

“He wishes,” said Thundercracker dryly.

Skywarp enhanced his vision to maximum. Ugh, it was Sunstreaker. The Autobots must be scraping the bottom of the barrel if they put him in charge. “Yeah, we might be his nemesis but he isn’t ours.”

“You’ll regret that decision,” said Starscream. He threw a devious smile to Megatron. “But perhaps you’d be willing to offer aid. You see, Megatron needs help.”

Megatron, who was sprawled in his throne in the position of an intimidating yet lackadaisical emperor, snapped to attention as though electrified. He sat up straight, his voice dropping to a premonitory menace. “Starscream, we are not doing ‘Get Help’.”

Starscream completely ignored him. “Get help! Please, Megatron is dying!”

Both factions fell into a state of utter befuddlement. The Autobots scratched at their heads and shrugged. The Decepticons whispered their confusion to each other. Thundercracker dropped his face into his hands and peeked through spread fingers, as though he couldn’t bear to watch but also couldn’t look away. 

“I don’t get it,” said Deadlock.

Skywarp wiggled his wings. “I don’t either, but wait for it.”

Starscream reached into his subspace and pulled out what appeared to be a remote control. His face became absolutely predatory. “Help him,” he said, and then pressed a button.

“Don’t-“ Megatron was halfway out of the throne to stop him, but it was too late. The seat of his throne shot out with incredible force and a loud hissing sound. Shouting, he flew from the platform, through the air, and into the line of Autobots. For a second they were too stunned to do anything, but then they recovered and attacked.

The chair ejector seat was attached to a coil spring, and it continued to sway back and forth in front of the shocked Decepticons. Snickering, Starscream pushed it back into the main part of the throne with a click. He then sat down and said, “Megatron is in need of assistance. I, Starscream, now lead the Decepticons!”

It was rare that a group of Decepticons were completely silent. But mouths were moving soundlessly, optics were cycling in consternation, and EM fields were pulsing erratically. Everyone kept glancing at their neighbor, then back at Starscream. Dumbfounded, Deadlock asked, “So do we do something here?”

Skywarp’s core temperature had barely fluctuated. This wasn’t even that crazy, in his opinion. But being in a Trine with Starscream gave one a high tolerance for the unexpected. “Don’t bother. This’ll sort itself out.”

Across the battlefield, Megatron was tossing Autobots to and fro while taking heavy fire. He was holding up well, considering the sheer number of enemies. During a brief break in the wave of blaster bolts, he reached into his own subspace and pulled out what looked like another remote control. “You’re an idiot, Starscream,” he roared. “You think I don’t have contingencies for all of your painfully obvious coups?”

“We’ll see about thaaaaaaaaaaaa-“ The seat pan ejected again, sending Starscream tumbling through the air towards the fight. He transformed before he hit the ground and began strafing the battle line. The fact that a great number of his shots hit Megatron was surely no accident. “Nice try, fool. Or have you forgotten that I can fly?”

“I remembered,” said Megatron. He jumped into the air, way higher than Skywarp would have thought possible, and grabbed Starscream by the wing. Turning rapidly in a circle, he used Starscream as a hammer to smash the nearby Autobots.

“Augh!” cried Starscream. “Alright. Truce.”

Megatron released him, and they gracefully traded alts in a move so amazing that it had Skywarp squealing. Starscream transformed to root mode in mid-air. When both feet hit the ground, he casually outstretched an arm to catch Megatron in gun form. Without missing a beat, he kept moving through the Autobots, nimbly twirling and shooting at anyone in their path.

“They are so cool,” sighed an awestruck Deadlock.

“Agreed,” said Skywarp.

“What are you layabouts waiting for?” shouted Megatron from Starscream’s hand. “Attack them!”

No matter what form it arrived in, an order from Megatron always prompted the Decepticons into action. The army shouted and jumped from the platform to join the fray.

_Everyone’s distracted_ , thought Skywarp. _Now’s the time to bust out Tarn 2.0._ He grabbed the megaphone that Starscream had dropped and said, “Deadlock. Thundercracker. Hold up.”

“Warp, we don’t have time for-“

“Whatever. This fight doesn’t need us,” said Skywarp. The fight didn’t seem to need anyone other than Megatron and Starscream. He dropped his voice and activated his newly coded speech pattern software. In a tone that sounded frighteningly like the Commandant, Skywarp said, “Turmoil, you have been a disappointment.”

Turmoil was fighting near the platform, but when he heard his name he stopped firing and twisted around nervously. “Tarn? What?” He paid for the break in his attention. A blaster bolt from an Autobot hit him right in the face, and he flailed and spat static.

Deadlock burst out laughing. It was no secret he and Turmoil didn’t get along. “Holy slag, that sounded just like him!”

“Okay,” said Thundercracker. He gently tried to remove the megaphone from Skywarp’s hand. “We need to focus here.”

“One more!” Skywarp pointed to a small group of Autobots rushing towards the platform. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and that little one that never stopped talking. Swerve, was it? Skywarp ducked behind Thundercracker’s wing so they couldn’t see him speak into the megaphone, and said in his best Tarn voice, “Autobots! May I have this dance? My double fusion cannon is lonely.”

Sideswipe’s face dropped. He stopped in his tracks, causing Sunstreaker to slam into him. They crowded together and scanned the battlefield, whispering to each other urgently.

“Is that Tarn the Unstoppable Killing Machine?” whimpered Swerve. He stumbled backwards, and then picked himself up and ran away.

The spooked Autobots just stood there in the open. Deadlock unleashed a volley of fire on them, injuring them both and seriously messing up Sunstreaker’s paint job. The stupid Lambo twins transformed and raced across the battlefield to escape the onslaught.

“Yes!” said Skywarp.

Even Thundercracker was chuckling now. He hated those two almost as much as Skywarp did. “Alright that _is_ an incredible Tarn impression.”

Skywarp beamed. Praise from Thundercracker was like oil in the desert. Satisfied that his Trinemate liked the impression, he decided to take pity on him and focus. Besides, the sooner they ended this fight, the sooner they could have more time to pretend to be Tarn. “Come on,” he said to Deadlock. “We’ll give you air support while you break that stronghold over there. Then we can go back to the base and send dirty messages to Overlord from Tarn’s comm number.”

Thundercracker’s amusement quickly died. “Are you crazy? No!”

“It doesn’t have to be Overlord,” amended Skywarp. “There’s no limit to who we can prank! Think about it. We could do Sixshot. Black Shadow. That weirdo Heretech.”

Thundercracker scowled, like he was going to say no, but then he grew more thoughtful. “What about Bludgeon?”

“Sure we can, TC. Sure we can,” said Skywarp with a grin. Perfect. Bludgeon openly hated _and_ lusted after Thundercracker. It was totally creepy. “Maybe we can leave a message in Tarn’s voice asking Bludgeon to do ‘Get Help’ with him.”

Deadlock started laughing again, this time joined by Thundercracker. It was the sweetest sound. There was a world behind it. The promise of fun and group bonding, of causing chaos. The assurance that Thundercracker wanted to spend time with him. That he’d never leave. That only Skywarp had the power to make his rigid Trinemate laugh like that. Oh yeah, this was gonna be a blast.

With a pat to Thundercracker’s wing, Skywarp transformed and took to the air.

 

The End 

 


End file.
